


Man names woman, but woman names the act

by BlackEyedGirl



Category: Entourage
Genre: Feminist Themes, Jossed, Multi, POV Female Character, Past Infidelity, Podfic Available, Relationship Negotiation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-12-24
Updated: 2008-12-24
Packaged: 2018-01-25 06:23:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1636265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackEyedGirl/pseuds/BlackEyedGirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ari's ego has always been the third person in their marriage bed - she doesn't know if she can cope with someone else. But Ari talks to Eric differently than he talks to her, and she wants to know why.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Man names woman, but woman names the act

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Lexie, who gave this an amazingly quick beta-read, despite not being in the fandom, when I was banging my head on the wall.
> 
> Written for Dhobi ki Kutti
> 
> [general-jinjur](http://general-jinjur.dreamwidth.org/) made awesome podfic for this: [mp3](http://www.audiofic.jinjurly.com/man-names-woman-but-woman-names-act), [m4b](http://www.audiofic.jinjurly.com/man-names-woman-but-woman-names-act-audiobook)

She doesn't know whether he wanted to be caught - Ari is not comfortable with infidelity - or if it hadn't entered his mind that this was cheating too. Either way, there's a stain on his dress pants that she didn't put there. 

She accuses herself of paranoia, for the four minutes it takes Ari to come and find her, still holding the evidence. The pants had just been lying on the chair, discarded. Ari looks at her like she's crazy, but not like she's lying.

"What? You think I'd screw around with some stick-figure wannabe-starlet when I could be at home with you? It was just business, baby. Practically a circle jerk."

"So, in this circle, who had her hand on your dick, Ari?"

"Excuse me?"

"Who was it? One of your clients?"

"I don't fuck around with my clients, you know that."

"That makes me feel so much better." There's a shrill edge to her tone that she hates herself for, but if there was ever a time to shriek, then this is it. "Who the hell was it, Ari? Dana? _Barbara_?"

"Babs? My dick would break off if I let that harridan anywhere near it. Grown men weep in fear at the thought of her penis-shrinking powers. I'd never-"

"Ari. If you don't want me to get my purse, my keys, and our _children_ right now..." She's bluffing, but he doesn't know that. She doesn't have many cards, but this is one of them: he loves her, and he loves the kids, and losing them is one of the only things that scares him.

"I'd never touch another woman. Never. You know that."

" _Excuse me?_ "

Ari looks at the floor, and then looks up and tosses, "Eric Murphy," in her face.

* * *

She's somewhat surprised to discover that one night of indiscretion is not enough to send her running for the lawyers. But then they've never been like other married couples. This is just another piece of ammunition for their therapy sessions. _You're never here, you don't communicate, you let the manager of your star client jerk you off in your office on a Friday night._

She doesn't realise that she's angry until she sees Eric talking to Ari, the day after he doesn't take the studio head job. They're smirking and spitting abuse at each other - nothing like affection - but they lean in close. Ari's never known the meaning of personal space, and Eric has Vince, but still. Still, they're standing too close. And Eric doesn't know she knows, but Ari does, and doesn't care. Or doesn't notice, and maybe that's worse. 

They're absorbed enough in their game of mutual insult that she can get close enough to listen without being noticed. Ari is saying, "If I'd wanted the job, I'd have taken it. You think I would turn down a God knows how many thousands of dollars pay-hike because of _your_ Irish ass?"

"No, but I think you might've turned it down because of Vince." 

"E..."

"Yeah," Eric says, as though satisfied.

"You ever consider that maybe I'd rather be boss of my own agency than have to answer to John Ellis and his band of shareholders every day?"

"You have to answer to studio presidents every day no matter what you do. Vince said something to you."

"So what if he did?"

"Ari-"

"He wanted me to stick it out with him. He didn't ask me to, but he wanted it. So what if he did?"

 _Intimate_ , is the word she was looking for earlier. Not friendly, but intimate. As if Eric has a right to this part of her husband - the part which falters, the part which stops to seek out a new defence. She cannot always gain access to it for herself, but Eric simply takes it. 

He wasn't always able to barge his way in. She can remember a time when Eric Murphy was green - new in Hollywood and clumsily switching between fighting with her husband and taking her hand. 

Still talking to Ari, Eric says, "Yeah, well, it looks like we're both sticking it out then." He holds out his hand, half-ironically. "We'll fix this."

"I'll fix this, you can watch."

Eric laughs, and turns towards the bar. He orders two drinks without checking with Ari first.

Ari turns his head, and sees her watching. He backs a step away, and touches the bar beside Eric's hand. He says something too quietly for her to hear. Eric tilts his head, listening, and nods.

When Ari walks towards her, she turns and walks away. 

* * *

It's far too easy to become fixated on the memory of Ari's sudden truthfulness, and Eric's quiet understanding. Women fantasise just as readily as men - Ari always forgets that.

"You can sleep with Eric, as long as I can watch."

Ari freezes, sitting on the couch with a pile of contracts to approve. "This is a trap, right?"

"I mean, you can fuck him, or let him fuck you, whatever it is that the two of you- But only if I can see."

"No, I heard what you said, but this is a trap, right? You're just setting me up for something. Better alimony payments, right? I knew you were-"

"Ari!"

"Okay, no, not alimony. Daddy set you up for life, didn't he? So what is it?" Of the two of them, Ari has always been the most prone to hysterics. There's only room for one of them in any couple, and he is it with them. She has her moments, but when it comes to wild, indignant flailing, Ari dominates. He waves his hand at her. "Just how regular an occurrence do you think this is? He jerked me off _once_ , and if it weren't for his freakishly poor coordination, you would never have known. Of course, everything of his is just so much smaller, so maybe that-"

He runs into a list of all of Eric's failings as a person, a man, and as a manager. She wonders who he's trying to convince.

* * *

They have a party to celebrate Vince's new role. There's been little enough good news in the past year or so, that the agency wants the chance to laud his return to the top. It's the usual Hollywood mix: agents, producers, actors, and not-quite-actors. 

There are managers, too, of course, and Eric mixes with the best of them now. He is on the far side of the room, effortlessly moving from one group to the other, being congratulated on his coup, and shrugging it off. It's confidence, she thinks, more than anything. He knows he belongs here now. 

"And," she tells Ari, "he's finally learned to dress himself."

"I'm sorry."

"Eric, I mean. It's a nice suit."

"I knew who you meant. I'm sorry."

"I know." She watches Eric slide his hand down Vince's back, pushing him towards someone he should be talking to. She says, "Vince really fired him."

"Yeah, I was shocked too. I didn't realise they could function as independent entities."

"Is he all right?"

"Vinnie?"

"Eric."

"I haven't spoken to him since."

"Well, let's go and find out." She grabs him by the wrist and pulls him across the floor. He's still protesting when they reach Eric's side. 

Eric looks at her. If he didn't know before, he does now. He says, "Mrs Gold, hi."

"Hello, Eric. Can we borrow you for a moment?"

He nods, mutely, and follows the two of them out. He makes a slight noise of objection when she walks them upstairs, looking for a quiet room with a lock on the door. And she doubts herself for a moment when Ari and Eric won't meet each other's eyes. They stand just out of touching distance from each other.

Eric steps forward, pushes, and Ari is against the wall. His hands twitch, and curl into fists that he presses against his legs. He lets Eric undo his fly, and slip one hand into the space. Eric keeps his other hand pressed just below Ari's throat. She's normally too close to hear these noises - too tangled in her own enjoyment to pick out each note of Ari's rising pleasure. Ari closes his eyes, so he can't see her looking. 

She used to have a name. Now it's always 'baby' or 'sweetheart.' 'Mrs Gold.' 'Darling,' from directors of a certain stripe. This is L.A. - she expected nothing else. Except that Ari arches his neck and moans, "E, Eric, baby, E, come on." 

Eric bites, "Want something, Ari?" onto her husband's shoulder and she- She used to have a name. 

Eric looks over his shoulder. He raises his eyebrow: want me to stop, or want to join in? She shakes her head. Eric drops to the floor, sliding Ari's pants down his hips when he does it. This isn't what they did before. Eric breathes on Ari's skin, and Ari's head slams against the wall. Eric takes Ari into his mouth, doing something with his tongue that makes Ari curse.

She squirms on the bed, looking for friction that doesn't exist. She gasps Ari's name, and his eyes fly open, watching her as Eric makes him come. 

* * *

He goes to Eric in failure, and her in success, she realises. Like a faulty rabbit's foot; Ari leans hardest on Eric in the dark times. 

She wants that. 

Ari lost a client today. Not one of his major players, but high second string. To Amanda Daniels, which seems to have been the sticking point. He had come home and ranted about it, loud and mostly non-descriptive. Now he is ranting at Eric.

Lloyd is discreetly trying to steer him away, reminding him that Hollywood is pretty much a small town in terms of how fast gossip spreads. He succeeds, in the end, by promising to call in some favours with the gay mafia. Lloyd is probably just trying to appease his boss, but Ari seems entirely serious. 

Lloyd says, "Hello, Mrs Gold," as he walks Ari to safety. There are cars waiting by the back doors for just this kind of occurrence. She nods at him, but goes to stand by Eric.

She says, "Walk with me," and he looks over her shoulder for Ari. "Not him," she says. "Me."

"Of course," he answers obligingly, and stands to walk out. He offers her an arm, and she's almost tempted to take it. 

"You're something of a gentleman, Eric," she says instead.

"I try."

"Pity." She walks with him out of the room, and up a set of stairs, until the noise of the party is a distant dull roar. The nearest dark corner isn't quite dark enough, but it'll do. He bites down on his cry when she pushes him into the space. His mouth is sweet, and parted open. His hands drop to her waist, and she feels like she is sixteen again. 

Eric pushes her away gently and says, "We can't do this."

"So you can screw around with my husband, but not with his wife?"

"Yes! No. I mean-" He blushes when he stammers, but she's too angry to find it charming.

She says, "What makes it different?"

"It is."

"It's the same marriage you're stepping into the middle of. But Ari's your friend, and men have this-"

"We're not friends. We don't even like each other. Men don't need to like each other to have sex."

She shoves his shoulder. "Neither do women."

"We're just... We understand each other. Same problems."

"You've shared the same foxhole, you mean. Brothers in arms."

Eric laughs. "I wouldn't say that, exactly."

"No, you probably wouldn't."

Eric settles his hand in the small of her back, underneath her jacket. He steers her quietly down the hallway, and towards the door. He says, "Want me to drive you home?"

"I can get a cab."

"You sure?"

"Yes. But thank you."

Eric's expression is troubled, watching her from inside the doorway. His face is half hidden in shadow. "If... Talk to Ari, okay? He needs to say yes first. But I- Of course I would."

"For Ari, or for me?"

"It can't be both?"

That, she supposes, is the whole point.

* * *

The kids are gone for the night, and Eric is shuffling from foot to foot on her front porch. Ari peers out of the door, looks from side to side, and pulls Eric in.

"You realise that was _more_ suspicious, right?" Eric asks.

"He has a point, Ari," she agrees. "But it's probably still one of the least strange things our neighbours have been witness to."

Ari shrugs, and Eric looks past him to smile at her. It doesn't make Ari any less edgy, or her any more convinced, but it's a nice smile. It gets them as far as the bedroom.

The next step is more troublesome. It would be difficult even if they were talking about it - positions and angles and the right order. She has run over the different variations, but has yet to settle on one. Ari forces the decision by trying to make it for them. She ignores his commentary, and pushes him flat on the bed. 

Eric allows her to guide him into the right place, settled between Ari's thighs. He glances at her quickly, and she nods. This is best. She hands him the lube and a condom. Eric presses his hands against the soft skin behind Ari's knees, and bends them to make himself room. Ari growls, "You better know what you're doing, E."

"When have I led you wrong?"

"You really want to get me started?"

She leans over Ari, and kisses Eric until he moans. Ari makes noises of a different sort. He stretches up and grabs her arm, pulling her back down to him, claiming her mouth. 

She allows it, enjoys the feeling of his undivided attention, until Eric starts rubbing his thumb against her ankle. If she faces the other direction, she can help him. Eric covers his fingers, making them slick and cool. He reaches where she can't see, and Ari arches up from the bed. Again, slowly, until Ari is rocking against his fingers and rubbing up into her hand. When Eric is inside him, she slides back. Ari's tongue traces her skin. He whispers.

Eric's hand covers hers, wrapped around Ari's cock. He kisses the curve of her shoulder, and up to her lips. He says something which could be _thank you_ or could simply be a name. Ari comes with a jerky, shuddering cry, over the join of their hands. Eric follows him in a stretch of unbroken curses. 

It takes her a little longer - the work of Ari's mouth and Eric's hands. They make a competition of it. Who can make her moan the loudest, twist the most. When it happens, she falls, landing between their bodies. Ari turns his head to kiss her.

Eric's breath is warm on the back of her neck, but only for a few minutes. He stretches, sighing, and slips out of the bed. She touches his wrist, and he blinks at her, startled. Ari frowns. "He doesn't stay."

"Ari?"

"He doesn't stay. That's not how we do this."

Eric lifts one shoulder, and his smile this time is no less sure. He squeezes her hand. Then he turns to Ari and says, "Lunch, tomorrow, don't forget. We need to-"

"The day I forget a meeting and you remember it, E, will be the day hell freezes over and decamps to L.A."

"Tomorrow, then."

"Yeah. Bye."

* * *

Vince and the other boys are on the far side of the room. She looks at Eric. "You don't need to stay with me, you know."

He flushes, and stumbles to his feet. "I can-"

She realises quickly enough what has happened. "For God's sake, Eric, sit down. I only meant that if you wanted to go and see Vince, you should. I'm sure Ari will be here soon enough."

Eric sits down again, recovering his poise. "No, I'm happy to keep you company while we wait for him."

Ari being late is not new, although in truth she had arrived a little early. Eric has softer edges when Ari isn't there - his smile is smaller, and he taps the table for emphasis, instead of stretching his arms wide. They talk, idly, about a friend of hers from the old days who could use a manager. Eric is gratifyingly appreciative of the offer of an introduction, and promises to take care of her friend. 

When Ari gets there, he stands between their chairs, with a hand on each of their shoulders. He says, "Look at this - my two favourite people." He manages to make it sound like a joke and a question both at once.

Eric stands, sensibly this time, and nods. "I'll see you later."

"Wait," she says. "Stay."

"I really should-"

"E," Ari says, "let this be just another of my many lessons for you on working in Hollywood - when a beautiful woman asks you to stay, you fucking stay."

They have a silent conversation over her head, and fall to either side of her. Ari's arm curls around her shoulders, and Eric's settles on her back. They talk across her, about Vince's latest offer, and whether Ari should take another of Eric's clients on. When she speaks, although it takes them different lengths of time, they both pause to listen.


End file.
